


There or Thereabouts

by gemjam



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, Group Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:22:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7012339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemjam/pseuds/gemjam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monaco 2012 - After a race he'd rather forget, Jenson is offered the perfection distraction by Mark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There or Thereabouts

**Author's Note:**

> So I actually wrote this back in 2012 after the race in question but it was intended to be a part of something bigger. That something bigger is clearly not happening now but today made me think of this and I could use some happier times.

Jenson’s phone chimed again as he climbed the back staircase of the club to the VIP area. The security guard gave him a nod and Jenson looked over the curtained entrances, trying to remember Mark’s instructions as he pulled his phone from his pocket. Another text from Nico. Jenson appreciated that his friends were worried about him, ready to console him, but he wasn’t in the mood for sympathy. Mark, high from his second Monaco win, had promised nothing but flowing champagne and a good time. Jenson thought he could probably handle that.

He went to the end of the walkway and pulled aside the final curtain, stepping inside. There was a large glass window that looked out over the dance floor but the sound of the thumping beat was muffled, the songs still audible but quiet enough to allow for conversation without having to shout. Jenson’s eyes swept over the room, the champagne bottle, the half-filled glasses, until his gaze fell on the seating area towards the back of the alcove, a flush rising quickly over his face.

Fernando was practically bent in half, his ankles up on Mark’s shoulders as he laid back on the extravagant cushions. He was naked from the waist down, his checked shirt halfway unfastened, head tipped back and face awash with bliss. Mark’s T-shirt was tossed on the floor, his jeans pushed down his hips so that his bare arse was showing as he leant over Fernando, fucking him with such ferocity it made Jenson wince. Fernando gasped, gripping the cushions beneath him, his hard dick peeping out from his long shirt.

Jenson moved backwards, feet clumsy as he tried to find the curtain behind him. Mark’s text inviting him up here had been sent a while ago now and Jenson hadn’t exactly given him a definite response. Clearly Mark had found other ways to occupy himself. Jenson turned, reaching for the curtain.

“Wait,” Mark called. “Wait, wait, I’m nearly done, mate.”

Jenson turned back to face him and then instantly averted his eyes. “No, it’s, uh, sorry,” he rambled.

“Your turn next,” Mark told him. “Grab a drink, be with you in a sec.”

Jenson looked to the champagne and then to the door before he eyes inevitably fell back on Mark and Fernando. Mark’s attention was firmly focussed on what he was doing now, thrusting hard into Fernando’s body, grunting with the effort. Fernando moaned, his body moving with Mark’s, hips lifting from the sofa to meet Mark’s thrusts. The top half of his body looked limp though, fluid and relaxed, like getting fucked into the cushions felt like heaven to him. His head fell to the side with another moan and he met Jenson’s gaze. There was something almost like a challenge there. Jenson dropped his phone down onto the table and grabbed the champagne bottle and an empty glass, turning to the window that looked over the dance floor.

Behind him he could still hear the sounds of sex; the wet slide, the slapping bodies, the grunts and groans. Below, people writhed on the dance floor and it all looked obscene to Jenson’s eyes now. He really wasn’t drunk enough for this. He sloshed some champagne into his glass, downed it in one, and filled it up again.

“Yeah, go on, take it,” Mark gritted out, his voice harsh and biting, and Jenson felt himself blush all over again, his cock twitching in his pants.

Fernando whined, high and needy, and Jenson couldn’t help looking over his shoulder. Fernando’s hips were arching higher off the cushions, his eyes squeezed shut as Mark slammed into him. Jenson downed his champagne, clumsily pouring himself another glass. He couldn’t take his eyes off the way Mark’s fingers dug into Fernando’s thighs, the way the muscles in his arms flexed, the curve of his spine. He thrust into Fernando with such power, both literally and figuratively, taking total control of him in a way that Fernando seemed completely at peace with.

Jenson watched as Mark’s body tightened before his eyes and he could almost feel it with him, that heat, that tightness, uncoiling deep down inside. He leaned against the window, the glass cool where it touched his bare arm, vibrating with the bass of the music below. All Jenson could hear were Mark’s moans though mingling with the noises of encouragement that Fernando made, Mark’s orgasm clearly pleasing him. As they stilled, Mark panting and staring down at Fernando, a tiny smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, Jenson turned back to the dance floor, feeling suddenly like he was intruding on something.

He tried to tune them out, drinking down his champagne and staring at the surging crowd beneath him, moving as one to the beat of the music. It made him feel dizzy. He heard footsteps across the floor and then Mark was by his side, champagne glass in hand. He took a sip before looking at Jenson.

“You want a go?” he asked.

Jenson turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Do I want a go?” he repeated incredulously. His eyes scanned down Mark’s body, his naked chest, the button on his jeans still open, and then he looked back out of the window, draining his glass of champagne.

Mark moved in closer, lowering his voice in a way that made Jenson feel like the words were somehow touching him. “Look at him,” Mark prompted. Jenson set his jaw, staring down at the dance floor. “Look,” Mark said again.

Jenson sighed, turning back to face the room. Fernando was laid out on the cushions, legs falling shamelessly apart, cock obviously still hard. His hair was a mess, a sheen of sweat covering his flushed face, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Jenson had never seen anyone look so fucking debauched in his life. He decided to abandon the glass and swig the champagne straight from the bottle.

“He’s a really good fuck, mate,” Mark said. “Desperate for it. And I promised him.”

Jenson turned to face him. “Promised him what?”

Mark smirked. “You.”

Jenson turned back to look at Fernando. He took another swig from the bottle.

“Go on,” Mark prompted.

Jenson shifted on his feet. “I, uh...”

“You want to see what you’re getting?” Mark asked. He drained his own glass and then moved across the room, sitting down by Fernando’s head. “Won’t get a better offer than this,” Mark told him.

He leaned over, beginning to unfasten the rest of Fernando’s shirt, exposing the smooth, tanned skin beneath, the sculpted muscles. Jenson’s eyes followed Mark’s hands as they slowly, teasingly, worked the buttons of Fernando’s shirt open. By the time he reached the last one, Jenson was hard as a rock and practically panting. Mark pulled the sides of Fernando’s shirt out of the way, exposing his body fully, his hands sliding down Fernando’s chest and over his stomach.

“You want?”

Fernando moaned, arching up into his touch. “He’s not man enough,” he said. “You do it.”

Mark chuckled. “Gonna have to wait a while for that one, mate.”

Fernando shifted, attempting to turn over. “Let me suck it.”

“You stay right where you are,” Mark told him, pushing Fernando back down onto the cushions as he made eye contact with Jenson. “He’ll do it.”

Jenson took a couple of long swallows from the bottle, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked at Mark and then took one more swig for good luck, placing the bottle down on the table as he crossed the room. Mark smiled at him, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a condom.

Jenson climbed onto the sofa, kneeling between Fernando’s legs. Fernando groaned gently, an impatient noise, his body shifting as he pouted at no one in particular. His cock was impressively hard and glistening with precome, begging for attention. Jenson was tempted to help him out, wrap his fingers around it, but he felt self-conscious and the thought occurred to him that Fernando might come too quickly and then Jenson wouldn’t be allowed to do anything else to him. Instead, he reached across Fernando’s body to take the condom from Mark’s hand, opening up his jeans and shoving them down to pull his cock out.

As he rolled the condom on, Mark moved closer to the pair of them, stroking the side of Fernando’s face. Fernando whined, shifting restlessly again, lifting his hips in Jenson’s direction. Jenson placed a hand beneath each of Fernando’s thighs, tilting his hips back and looking between Fernando’s legs, shiny lube coating his cleft, his stretched out hole.

“He’s more than ready for you, mate,” Mark assured him.

Jenson nodded, sliding his hands up to Fernando’s hips and pulling him up onto his lap. Fernando made a noise, a murmured little _oh_ , meeting Jenson’s eyes with an expression that was practically begging for it. Jenson took a breath, taking hold of his cock and guiding it into place, exhaling raggedly as he pushed inside.

Fernando arched up off the cushions, moaning appreciatively. He was so open, so slick and hot and inviting, and Jenson nearly lost it right there. It was so easy, so fluid, and yet Fernando had a way of still gripping him, like every muscle in his body was as well trained as the ones he worked on in the gym. Jenson stayed buried inside him for a moment, heart racing, letting himself revel in it.

“Come on,” Fernando gritted out, hips pushing firmly onto Jenson’s cock.

“Ignore him,” Mark told Jenson, his fingers slipping into Fernando’s mouth. “Demanding little fucker. Do what you like, mate.” Fernando glared at him but sucked dutifully on his fingers. Mark smiled affectionately back and then lifted his eyes to meet Jenson’s. “He likes it hard though and he’s been looking forward to this all night.”

Jenson looked dazedly at him for a moment and then his eyes fell down to Fernando, the way he sucked needily on Mark’s fingers, and he felt a powerful pulse of arousal throb through him. He shifted, adjusting his hold on Fernando’s hips before pulling back and beginning to thrust. He started out slow, trying to draw it out, make it last, but before he knew it he was slamming roughly into Fernando’s body, Fernando moaning like he couldn’t get enough, and Jenson had to admit that, okay, Mark was a genius, this was _exactly_ what he needed right now.

Jenson’s phone sounded on the table; another text message. He instinctively glanced at it, his hands tightening on Fernando’s hips, determined not to be dragged out of the moment. Mark pulled his fingers thoughtlessly from Fernando’s mouth as he got to his feet, crossing over to Jenson’s phone. Fernando followed him with his eyes, making a disgruntled noise. Jenson lost his rhythm slightly as he watched Mark walking slowly back towards them, tapping something into Jenson’s phone.

“Are you answering my text?”

“Concentrate on what you’re doing, mate,” Mark told him, sitting back down by Fernando’s head, placing the phone on the other side of himself. Fernando tilted his head back to look at him.

“Fingers,” he requested.

“Suck you own,” Mark told him, lifting one of Fernando’s hands from where it was gripping the cushions and guiding it up to his mouth. Fernando pouted but accepted the fingers, sucking them in. “There you go,” Mark said with a smile.

Jenson’s phone chimed again and Mark picked it up, smiling as he read the message. Without a word, he put it back down.

“What are you...” Jenson tried.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mark dismissed. “Nothing you’re gonna lose your job over.”

Shit, Jenson hadn’t even thought of that, the numbers that were in that phone, the people who could be contacting him. Who the fuck was Mark talking to? Mark’s attention was already on Fernando though, stroking his damp hair away from his forehead, looking into his eyes.

“Whore’s a good look on you,” Mark told him and something lit up in Fernando’s eyes that made Jenson fuck him harder, losing himself to it again.

He leaned further over Fernando, sweat making his shirt stick to his back, his legs burning in his jeans, and he wished he’d stopped to take a few more clothes off. Fernando was moaning around his own fingers, head still tilted back to look up at Mark whose tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth as he watched the way Jenson’s cock slammed into Fernando’s body. There was some kind of fluidity to it, a cycle between them, each action feeding into something else until it was all hopelessly tangled in Jenson’s mind and he could do little else but feel.

“I’ll just, uh, wait out here until you’re done.”

Jenson turned to the curtained doorway at the sound of the voice, seeing Nico stood just inside the room, an expression on his face that was somewhere between curious and amused. His eyes flicked away and then he turned, Mark getting to his feet and practically sprinting across the room.

“Hey, Britney, no, stay,” he implored, placing himself between Nico and the doorway.

“Mark,” Nico warned, his voice full of irritation. There was something about the way his hip was cocked, his head tilted, that made Jenson thrust into Fernando a little bit harder.

“You can have him next,” Mark told Nico, and for a moment Jenson wondered who he was talking about. Mark turned Nico back around to face Jenson and Fernando, an arm going around his waist as he pressed against Nico’s back, his chin on Nico’s shoulder. Nico looked petulant, like he was about to roll his eyes. His cheeks were flushed, body slightly stiff. “I’m sure he can take one more. Can’t fucking get enough when it comes to cock.”

Mark’s hand moved downwards and Nico didn’t stop him, letting out a shuddery breath as Mark’s palm pressed down against his cock through his jeans. Jenson couldn’t take his eyes away.

“Second place in your home Grand Prix,” Mark went on. “I think you deserve a little treat.” A smile spread over Nico’s face, shifting his weight until he had that cocky stance back again. “Thought it was only fair I invite you to the party,” Mark went on. Nico didn’t say anything but he made a little noise in his throat, eyes focussed on Jenson. “Nah, it’s not Fernando you’re after, is it?” Mark said knowingly. “You’d rather be where he is, under JB. Yeah?”

Jenson felt another powerful throb of arousal, gripping Fernando’s hips tighter. Mark squeezed Nico’s cock, making him moan brokenly, as though he were trying to stop himself. He closed his eyes for a second and then opened them again, watching Jenson for a moment. When his hips pushed into Mark’s hand, Mark smirked.

“Shall we get a bit more comfortable, mate?” he asked, pushing Nico forward. 

Nico’s feet were reluctant at first but he allowed himself to be guided towards Jenson and Fernando. Mark pulled him down onto the sofa with him, hand still rubbing at his crotch, and as Nico met Jenson’s eyes he groaned softly, leaning more heavily back against Mark.

Fernando’s fingers fell from his mouth and he moaned, catching Jenson’s attention. Jenson realised that he’d slowed down, his thrusts less focussed. He shifted on his knees and took hold of Fernando’s hips more determinately, trying to ignore the way that Mark was pulling Nico’s zipper down, pushing his hand inside. He had to concentrate of what was right in front of him; _everything_ was right in front of him though, that was the problem. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so simultaneously over-stimulated and on show.

When Mark pulled Nico’s cock from his jeans, stroking it firmly, Jenson couldn’t help but raise his eyes though, hypnotised by the steady rhythm, the way Nico’s hips lifted into his touch, that lovely little sound he made in his throat. One of Jenson’s own hands lifted from Fernando’s hips, moving towards his cock.

“Don’t touch him,” Mark said sternly. Jenson raised an eyebrow, looking up at him. “I’m not being possessive,” Mark dismissed, giving Jenson a weary look. “If you touch him he’ll come and then he’ll start whining and it’s a total pain in the arse. I’ll finish him off when you’re done.”

Jenson looked down at Fernando, hesitating, but Fernando simply arched into him, moaning again, a clear message to just keep going. Jenson replaced his hand to Fernando’s hip, watching as Fernando reached up behind himself. His seeking hand found Nico first who squirmed away from the touch before Fernando found Mark’s hip, hooking his fingers into one of Mark’s beltloops and holding on.

Jenson’s eyes fell back on Nico as he thrust more harshly into Fernando, feeling it all coiling up so surely inside him. Nico was panting, leaning back against Mark, his head resting back on Mark’s shoulder. His eyes were half-closed but Jenson could tell that Nico’s gaze was on him and something about that made his lust spike, his hips pistoning forward. He groaned, gritting his teeth, his gaze falling down to Mark’s hand on Nico’s cock, tugging roughly. They looked so good like that, fucking perfect, the best kind of inspiration Jenson had ever had to reach his orgasm.

His nails dug into Fernando’s hips as he came, eyes falling down to Fernando’s blissed out face, his untouched cock, the point where their bodies joined. He shuddered, hips faltering as he tried to ride it out, the intense waves of pleasure making his entire body want to curl in on itself. When he finally stilled, breath shaky, Fernando hitched his hips up one last needy time before Jenson pulled out of him. He leaned sideways against the cushions, letting his body go limp as he watched Nico and Mark through hazy eyes, listened to the soft little noises Nico made as he thrust into Mark’s hand. As Mark made Nico come he whispered something in his ear that Jenson couldn’t hear, but it made Nico’s body arch against him with something more than just his orgasm.

As everything went still and quiet, Fernando tugged at Mark’s jeans where his fingers were still hooked onto the beltloops. Jenson shifted back from him, snapping the condom off and glancing around the room. He spotted a small bin in the corner and got to his feet, tossing the condom in before sorting his trousers out.

“Yeah, alright, I’m coming,” Mark told Fernando.

He pulled Fernando’s hand from his trousers and then moved from behind Nico, who nearly collapsed bonelessly back before he caught himself. Mark knelt down on the floor by Fernando’s side, one hand going between his legs as he pushed three fingers inside him while his mouth wrapped around Fernando’s cock. Fernando groaned gratefully, arching up off the sofa. Nico watched for a moment and then he tucked his cock back into his underwear, sagging back against the sofa cushions with his jeans still open. He looked around the room, his eyes falling on Jenson, and they stared at each other for a moment, neither quite sure what to do or say. Jenson glanced at the champagne.

“Fancy a drink?” he asked.

Nico laughed, face breaking out in a grin. “Sure. Sounds good.”

He got to his feet, tugging at his jeans as he crossed the room. Jenson poured two glasses out, handing one to Nico who looked at it for a moment.

“Should we toast?” he suggested.

“To what?” Jenson asked.

Nico shrugged. “It was Mark on the phone, wasn’t it? Who invited me up here.”

“Yeah,” Jenson confirmed. He took a sip of his drink. “Not sorry you turned up though.”

“Me neither,” Nico agreed. He held up his glass. “To... friends,” he offered.

“Friends,” Jenson agreed, clinking their glasses together, the eye-contact between them somehow loaded as they both drank.

Fernando was moaning across the room, writhing under Mark’s mouth and fingers, and Jenson couldn’t help looking over, watching the way he was gripping Mark’s hair in his hand, head thrown back and muscles in his neck strained as he gasped, toes curling into the cushions, and Jenson had to admit that he looked like he was kind of built for this. Mark was right, whore really was a good look on him.

Mark lifted his head, tugging Fernando’s hand out of his hair. “Get off,” he chided, but there was no irritation behind the words as he twined his fingers together with Fernando’s. He rested his head on Fernando’s thigh, slumping down on the floor and smiling fondly at him.

Jenson turned to Nico. “You think we should get out of here?”

“Let’s go,” Nico agreed, draining his glass of champagne before placing it down on the table, righting his trousers.

“Congrats on the win, man,” Jenson called to Mark. “And thanks for an... interesting evening.”

“Later, mate” Mark called, waving half-heartedly without taking his eyes off Fernando.

As Jenson and Nico pushed past the curtain back to the hallway the security guard gave them another nod and Jenson couldn’t help but smile as they passed him.

“Do you think he has any clue what goes on behind those curtains?” Jenson asked Nico.

Nico slapped him on the chest with the back of his hand and they laughed, racing each other down the stairs.


End file.
